Misery
by Devil917
Summary: Sam!Girls unite. A requested one-shot collection of Limp!Sam, Sick!Sam, Hurt!Sam. Sam anything, really.  Dean requests are also accepted  So please read and review. Don't forget to leave a request or two!
1. Concrete Jungle

**Title : **Misery

**Author: **Devil917

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, trust me.

**Author's Notes: **First off, I'd like to say 'welcome back' to my returning readers and 'welcome' to the new ones. There's a process to my stories, it's a short process, but still. Basically, after you read I encourage you to leave a _request_ for a one-shot you'd like me to write and I'll get to it as soon as I can. There's no such thing as a silly request or too graphic request. Trust me, we're all crazy here [: This is mostly a Sam-centric one-shot series so if you're a Sam!Girl you've clicked on the right story, but I'm able to write Dean stuff, too, so there's no request that's out of my comfort zone. If you don't have a request but you still read the chapter, please let me know what you think. Feedback is always encouraged and wanted. It'll only helps me improve as a writer.

Anyway, I'll stop talking now.

* * *

**Chapter 1 : Concrete Jungle  
**

**Requested by: **_Chelsea Winchester  
_**Summary: **_Their night just seemed to go from bad to worse... The saying is true: you can't be too careful anymore.  
_**Time Set: **_When I wrote this, I saw it set in season 1, but it doesn't have much relevance in this one-shot. Any season should be fine. _

"Where the hell is my car?"

Dean paced back in forth. His feet moving in an empty parking spot that once held his precious Impala. He literally could feel his chest beginning to tighten. Had someone stolen it? Oh, he'd rip them to shreds. Anxiously, he ran his hands though his hair feeling the shortly chopped hair run through his fingers. In his ears, Dean could hear his heart pounding heavily against the inside of his chest, echoing off his bones and leaving an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. A piece of him was missing.

"Sam, where the hell is my car?"

About five feet away from Dean, Sam stood on top of the curb; his hand running back and forth over his eyebrow. His gaze was on the floor, knowing that if he saw the look on his brother's face, it'll only make him feel worse. It wasn't Sam's fault though. He didn't loose the car, he wasn't driving it, but Dean sure as hell knew how to make a guy feel guilty. The streetlight a few hundred miles away casted Dean's shadow on the concrete. His shadow seemed as if it had to hurry to keep up with Dean's overacting body was it encircled the parking space.

Sam shrugged. "I-I don't know, Dean. We parked _right here_."

Dean threw his hands up. "Yes, I know that genius. That's why I'm asking. Where. Is. My. Car?"

Knowing it was the right choice, Sam stayed quiet. Only responding with a sympathetic shrug.

In the street, many cars zoomed by. Their headlights like spotlights on the two young men on the side of the road, resembling hitchhikers. Sam kicked at the ground, waiting for his brother to begin to simmer down some. Dean, on the other hand, was just getting warmed up. He could feel his blood coming to a boil, soon it was bound to overflow. If he was a cartoon, there would surely be smoke coming from his ears. Trying to calm himself, he tugged at his leather jacket. Dean took on two deep breaths, neither of them calming, but it was a start. He forced his legs to come to a stop. There was nothing more that he could do.

"You okay?" Sam asked, truly concerned. It was clear to see how much Dean loved that car, stealing that car is like stealing the love of his life. Taking a step off the curb, Sam placed a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder.

"We'll find it," he declared.

"Damn straight," Dean replies, his voice determined.

Having Sam's hand drop to his side, Dean took off down the street. Obviously he thought he'd be able to find his car tonight. It didn't take Sam too much effort to catch up; two giant steps and he was practically ahead of him. Looking over his left shoulder at Dean he said, "Where exactly are we going?"

"To find my car."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean-"

"It can't be too far, Sam. And whoever took it better pray I'm too overwhelmed because I will literally kill them. C'mon." Dean slapped Sam's arm, leading down the sidewalk and toward the alley way. Sam looked around aimlessly, hoping that he'd magically spot the Impala so they can save this amazing adventure for another day. Unfortunately, it was nowhere in sight. But it was kind of hard to see considering it was about ten o'clock at night. Nothing but streetlights, headlights, and the moon to illuminate the streets.

"What if we went to the wrong spot?"

Dean scratched the side of his head. "I know where we parked, Sam."

The boys entered the alleyway. It was just about the biggest alleyway either of them have ever saw. It went two ways, making an intersection in the middle of it. All around was brick walls from the buildings that were surrounding them. The brothers walked briskly, praying that the Impala would be at the end of the alleyway just waiting for them. Behind them, Sam could've sworn he heard footsteps. Almost automatically he turned his head to the side ever-so-slightly, trying to tune in on the noise. From the corner of his eye, he looked over at Dean who had clearly heard it, too.

"Can we help you?" came a call.

They stopped and turned around cautiously.

At the beginning of the alleyway, about twenty five yards away, were four men standing side by side blocking the entrance.

Dean waved his hand. "No, we're good."

He hit Sam's arm, telling him to start walking again. They didn't get more than a few feet before another call came.

"Hey, c'mere. We just wanna talk."

The footsteps were getting closer. Again, the brothers stopped and turned around.

"Is that right?" Sam asks rhetorically. "'Bout what?"

The one in the middle reached behind him, pulling out a handgun. It was silver and shined in the moonlight. He pointed it right at Sam.

Dean put his arm up, pushing Sam back a step or two.

"Why don't you put that gun down and we can talk about this?" Dean offered.

The gun cocked. "We ain't too much for talking."

The men took a step forward. The brothers took a step back.

Sam finally spoke up. "What do you want?"

With gun in hand, the man took hold of Sam's wrist and twisted it slightly. Sam felt his heart begin to race. He jerked his arm backwards, but he had a tight grip on it.

"That's a mighty fine lookin' watch you got there..."

Dean grabbed them gun-holder's arm, pushing him backwards. "Take your hands off him right now," he warns in a cold tone.

The four mean exchange looks.

"What are you, his boyfriend?" they teased.

Losing his temper, Dean grabbed the man's arm again, turned him backwards, and twisted his arm behind his back until it was seconds from snapping. "I'm his brother you freak and I will not hesitate to kick you ass."

To his right, Dean heard another gun cock. "And I will not hesitate to end you life," the other robber chimed in.

Sam had had enough, he unfastened his watch and watched it fall to the ground.

"Alright, enough. You want the watch? Here, take it. C'mon, Dean."

Sam began to walk away, hoping that the problem was resolved.

It happened so fast. He remembered hearing Dean yelling " Sam watch out!" and then he remember feeling something heavy hitting him on the back of them head. And before he knew it, the ground came up to meet him.

Then everything went dark.

_- Concrete Jungle -_

Dean had fought like he'd never fought before.

If he was ever unsure of his fighting ability, he was confident now.

His arms were swinging like mad, making contact with each of their faces.

One of them men grabbed him from behind, holding his hands above his head. So he used his feet to keep the others away. Dean made contact with one of their ribs, hearing the _cracking _sound and then his foot seeping into his torso. It have him the chills. That guy was down.

As for the guy with the gun, Dean knocked that out of his hand as soon as possible. He had went after Sam, who thought that he had solved the problem by giving up the watch, and hit him in the back of his head with the butt of the gun. Dean watched as Sam's unaware knees locked and he went to the ground not even putting his hands out to break his fall a little. That was what put Dean in full force.

He charged the man with the gun and watched the gun smack against the brick wall. Using his resources, he slammed the man's head against the wall and watched him slide to the floor.

When it came to the last guy, Dean didn't even have to try too hard. He picked up the gun and aimed it as the man. Now he head the upper hand.

"Unless you wand five of these in your chest, I suggest you get out of here," Dean warned, cocking the gun again, showing he was serious.

The man was smart, he ran, taking Sam's watch with him.

Once the man was out of sight, Dean dropped the gun and was at Sam's side. He was on right where he was left on the ground. A small puddle of blood forming around his head. Mentally, Dean cursed.

"Sammy."

He shook Sam, trying to wake him.

"Wake up, Sam. C'mon," Dean nagged, still shaking his brother.

Finally, he heard a moan escape Sam's lips as he began to wake and register the pain. Dean took hold of his wrists and pulled him into a sitting position. Dean puts his hand on the side of his face, trying to keep his head from moving.

"Open you eyes," Dean commands gently.

Sam's eyes squeeze tighter then open slowly. Dean sees his pupils expand then contract as they try to adjust to the light and focus on what's in front of them.

Dean smiles slightly at him. "Can you walk?"

Sam shrugs, honestly not knowing the answer.

Dean stands, forcing Sam to his feet also. He puts a steadying hand around Sam's waist and throws Sam's arm over his shoulder.

"Let's get you home, okay?"

Dean begins to walk, Sam legs do the same automatically.

"The guys- wha'... what happen'd?"

Dean shook his head, smiling at the ground. "Lets just say they're taken care of. They've got your watch, though. Sorry."

Sam shook his head, but instantly regretted it when his brain started pounding. "Where're we goin'?"

Looking at his brother uneasily, Dean said "Back to the motel. You've got a pretty good crack to that egg head of yours."

Sam thought for a second, vaguely remembering what happened just a half hour ago.

"You're car..."

"What about it?" Dean asked as they exited the alleyway and began to head up the street on foot.

Sam's face clearly showed that he was confused. "You've gotta find it-"

Dean shook his head, showing Sam he was wrong.

"I've gotta take care of you, Sam. My car can wait till morning."


	2. Over Eager

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, trust me.

**Author's Notes: **Thanks so much for the reviews, feedback, and requests on the first chapter. It'll all very much appreciated. You guys are amazing! Hope this chapter is to your liking and keeps your interest. I'd love to know what you think of it when you're finished reading!

Also, if you wouldn't mind voting in my poll, that'll be awesome. I'm just really curious to see the response I get.

And lastly, I just started a story titled 'Jigsaw', and I know some of you may like it, so please check it out.

* * *

**Chapter 2 : Over Eager  
**

**Requested by: **_r__omi . luvz . jared  
_**Summary: **_A hunt goes bad, leaving two brothers to sit vigil, praying for a successful recovery. __  
_**Time Set: **_Sometime in Season 4._

Adam shook his head, not giving in. "I just don't understand why I can't go?"

"Because," was Dean's only answer. He brushed past him and to the kitchen table. Pulling the chair out, he took a seat across from Sam who was cleaning the guns quietly. He head tired to explain things to Adam the best he could earlier, but Adam's set on going on this hunt with them. Sam told him the best he could that he couldn't go with them because he hadn't learned enough yet, but Adam didn't care. When Sam told him that it was for his own safety that he stay here, Adam didn't care either. It was if he had something to prove, like he had to show them that he wasn't just some last minute to the family. Adam felt like he had to show them that his is where he belongs, even if it meant risking his life.

Following Dean, Adam entered the kitchen with outstretched arms. "Because what?"

Slowly, Dean looked up at him. Obviously he was getting annoyed. He sighed heavily, bringing his hands from his lap to the top of the table and cleared his throat. "You're not ready."

"Dean-"

"I'm serious, Adam. We haven't had time to tell you everything we know. It's too-"

Adam laughed a little. "It's too what? Dangerous?"

Dean nodded slightly.

"Everything in our lives are dangerous. You've said it yourself : none of us are safe."

Looking away, Dean shook his head. "You just don't get it, do you?"

Feeling his eyebrows closing in on each other, Adam asks, "Get what?"

"We're trying to protect you, Adam," Sam chimes in. His voice calm, softer than his brothers.

It made them listen, it made them shut up. Adam's eyes slide onto Sam, but he stays quiet for a moment. Dean's eyes are fixed on the table. Suddenly everything's quiet. Everyone's thinking. Thinking about how stupid this argument is. How they're getting mad at each other just for wanting to help and protect one another. Dean's still silent, but his mind is loud and clear. _We really shouldn't take him_, Dean thinks, _but he's gonna bitch about it for weeks_. Dean's looks at Adam whose still standing in front of them, kicking at the floor. _Ugh, fine. But if he gets hurt-_

"You can go."

_- Over Eager -_

"Sam, get down!" Dean yelled as he cocked his gun, aimed, at shot at the spirit-like creature that lurked behind Sam, threatening to tear him to shreds. Sam hadn't even seen it, and if Dean wasn't there, he sure would've felt it. It was tall, pale, and dark-eyed. The large, scarred hand reached back. Cocked and ready. It's fingernails were way longer than normal and completely past the point of creepy. They were dark yellow, dirt just collecting under them. Surely, you're get infected by just one touch of those things.

Reacting quickly, Sam dropped to the ground. The air rushed out of as soon as his stomach came in contact with the dirt. He huffed deeply, looking up at Dean who was yards away. His face was made of stone at the moment, no emotion was shone it in. Except for in his eyes. They had worry and anticipation etched deeply in them from seeing the demon inches away from taking a chunk out of Sam. Dean closed his eyes for a moment, letting the shock wash away. Then he made his way over to Sam who was slightly stunned on the ground.

"You okay?" Dean asked, reaching out grabbing Sam's jacket and making him stand up.

Sam nods slightly.

"Yeah..."

Dean looks over him suspiciously. "Did it get you? Are you hurt?"

Sam shakes his head. "No... I'm good."

Patting his shoulder, Dean nods, too. He begins to walk a little, knowing Sam's following close behind.

"Where is he?" Sam questions, looking around sharply.

Dean looks back. "Who? The demon?"

Sam shakes his head, feeling his heart pick up speed. "No, Adam."

Both of their hearts drop in the moment they hear him yelling. He was on the other side of the house. Neither of them could tell you how he got there alone or how he got out of their sight, but he did. Dean and Sam took off, running full speed to their brother. When they found him, the demon had a good hold on him, squeezing him tight. So tight he was beginning to turn red. Adam was still screaming, though, even when Sam and Dean were clearly in sight.

Sam was the first to react. He shot at the demon, not even hesitation. He hit it twice and it vanished into thin air, dropping Adam on the floor, coughing.

Sam was too busy assisting Adam that he didn't seen the demon return. Dean didn't have a chance to warn him, cock is gun, or shoot it before the demon's hand swiped across Sam's side, sending in flying into the wall. He hit his head hard, sliding to the ground. Dean charged, shooting a mile a minute while yelling for Adam to stay flat on the ground. Adam covered his head, waiting got the gunshots to stop before he lifted his head again. Dean pulled him to his feet

"You okay?" Dean asks, out of breath.

Adam nods, speechless for a moment.

Dean didn't have time to dwell, he could see that Adam was alright and wasn't physically hurt. It was Sam he was worried about. So Dean let go of Adam and took off running to the other side of the room, knowing that he'll be following close behind. Dean dropped to the floor, letting to of the gun, and pulling Sam into the sitting position. Sam was still awake, barely. He was still breathing, kind of. And he was bleeding, heavily. Looking down, the pool of blood wasn't something you could just skim over. It was flowing quite steadily out of Sam's side. The cuts obviously more deep than either of them had thought. Quickly, Dean took off his jacket and pressed it to Sam's side. Sam hissed in pain, but tried to stay still as much as possible.

"You're alright, you're alright. Just breathe, Sammy. I'll get'cha out of here. Gimme a second, alright?" Dean coaches as he applies even pressure on Sam's wound.

Sam tried to nod, tried to respond in some way but he found that it was harder than it should be, and he had no choice but to lie there.

Behind Dean stood Adam. He bit the end of his fingernail , looking around cautiously. Neither of his brothers knew the guilt he felt. Sam had got hurt saving him. Dean could've gotten hurt, too. Maybe they were right? Maybe Adam isn't ready for all this yet?

_- Over Eager -_

As soon as Dean said that everything was clear, they both helped carry Sam back to the Impala even though he bitched the whole way that he would walk. Dean said he wasn't taking any chances though, considering the amount of blood he'd lost already. By then, Sam had already began to turn pale slightly. No one but Adam noticed the fear and worry in Dean's eyes when he looked down at Sam and at the wound on his side.

Again, Adam felt the guilt strike him deep. This was his fault.

_- Over Eager -_

"Alright, put him down," Dean instructed when they had gotten back to the house. Both brothers carefully rested Sam down on the couch. He was pretty out of it by then, just staring into space aimlessly. Dean knew he had to do something and he had to do something quick. He pushed Adam to the side gently and bended over Sam. He tapped the side of his face, trying to get his attention.

"Hey, I'm gonna patch you up, alright? You hear me? You're gonna be fine. Relax, okay, Sammy?"

Adam walked out of the room, tugging on the ends of his hair. He went into the kitchen pacing in a circle. He looked down at his hands, they had Sam's blood on them. He let out a weak breath and headed for the sink. He washed his hands angrily, watching the deep red color slide off his hands and down the drain. In the background he could hear Dean talking softly to Sam; worry could clearly be heard in his voice and Adam was seconds from ripping his hear drums out.

Dean didn't have to feel this way if Adam was ready.

Sam wouldn't have to be in the pain that he's in if Adam knew how to handle himself better.

Felling his anger come to a boil, he punched the wall behind him.

Behind him, he heard foot steps.

"Adam, what the hell, man?

Adam turns around quickly, and that's when Dean notices the tears in his eyes and the redness of his knuckles.

Dean's face tells it all. He's confused. Probably thinking that he can't handle two emotionally and physically unstable little brothers. Dean shakes his head slightly, trying to keep it together. For a second, he looks back at Sam's who's gripping the couch so tight, he's bond to rip it. Then he looks back at Adam, pure concern etched on his face.

"What?" he asks. "What's wrong?"

"It my fault," Adam answers immediately.

Dean shakes his head, not understanding. "What's your fault?"

Shrugging, Adam points behind Dean at Sam.

"Sam getting hurt... us not catching the demon... the reason why you're upset-"

Ever-so-slightly, Dean shakes his head. "Don't talk like that."

"But it's true!" Adam shoots back. "You were right, okay? You were right. I'm not ready."

Dean walked forward, taking hold of Adam's shoulder.

"Stop talking like that, will you? It's not your fault. I don't blame you, Sam doesn't blame you, and you need to stop blaming yourself. And you _will _be ready. That thing came after you, you did what you could. You couldn't help that Sam got hurt. Hell, I couldn't do anything about it either. It was just something that happened, okay? Sam's gonna be alright. We're gonna make sure of that." Then he flash Adam one of his famous Dean-smiles and patted his shoulder.

Adam couldn't help but smile back.

For a moment, the guilt was still there but it was subsiding.

Dean tugged his jacket. "How bout we go help Sam? I know he wants to see you. I know he forgives you, too."


	3. In My Head

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, trust me.

**Author's Notes: **Thanks so much for the reviews, feedback, and requests on the first chapters. It'll all very much appreciated. You guys are amazing! Hope this chapter is to your liking and keeps your interest. I'd love to know what you think of it when you're finished reading!

* * *

**Chapter 3: In My Head**

**Requested by: **_May Glenn__  
_**Summary: **_Dean can defeat anything... except for when the monster Sam's fighting is in his head. __  
_**Time Set: **_Sometime in Season 1 , maybe even pre-season. _

It's been years since Dean has carried Sam. Like, really carried him. Full bridal style. With his arm under his knees and the other under Sam's shoulders, he pushed the Impala's passenger seat door closed with his back and headed toward the motel room door. Sam wasn't as heavy as Dean would've though considering that Sam was taller. Dean easily maneuvered though the door, leaving it open for a minute while he gently lie Sam on the bed furthers from the door. As he walks in, Dean sneaks a peek at the clock next to his bed. 11:19 p.m.

Walking back to the door, the flicks on the motel room light. Sam groans in the background, his eyes sensitive to the light. With one hand, Dean closes the door and locks it. Now it was just him and Sam. That's what he's used to.

From the bed, Sam's mumbling something that Dean couldn't quite make out. The words he was trying to say were so incoherent, Dean questioned if he was even speaking in proper sentences at all. Still standing, Dean watched his brother struggle, game planning on what he should do first. Sam was in pain, obvious pain, but not treatable. The pain that he was feeling was felt completely real to him, but in reality it was fictional. He was delusional. There was no way he was in his right mind right now.

Sam mumble something again, clutching his stomach and shifting uncomfortably on the bed. He pushes his head deeper into the pillow, pulling his eyes shut for a moment before letting them slide back open again. With dull eyes, Sam looks up at Dean, pleading for him to help. But Dean knows that there is truly nothing he can do. What Sam is feeling isn't real.

Prying his eyes away, Dean walks away, getting a chair. He takes the one that stationed at the desk across the room and heads back to Sam. Sam's still holding his stomach. His eyes are still shut but are squeezed tight together. His breathing is accelerated and labored. A pinkish color began to color Sam's face. Alarmed, Dean sat forward, putting his hand on Sam's shoulder and squeezed it a little.

"Sammy, you've gotta calm down," he says softly. Sam's not listening. Dean's not surprised. Honesty, he's not even sure if Sam can hear him right now, but it was worth a try.

"Sam, you're gonna hyperventilate. Calm down."

Rolling to his side, Sam pushed into Dean's reaching hand. Patting his shoulder, Dean nodded at him, showing approval. Within minutes, Dean noticed Sam's breathing come close to normal, but it was still labored. He was still in pain. Dean didn't know how long this will last.

"Dean- I… Dean-"

Placing his hand over Sam's, Dean squeezed it a little, showing his presence.

"I've got you," Dean replies softly.

Sam rolls onto his back again; still his eyes are closed.

"Just keep breathing, ride it out, okay? Remember what Dad used to tell us? Deep breaths, Sam," Dean coached from the side of the bed but he wasn't sure how much good it was doing. Sam was in a world of his own. He probably would be for a while.

Being was gentle as he could, Dean attempted to take Sam's jacket off, but suddenly Sam wouldn't keep still. Dean pressed on Sam's shoulders, keeping them on the bed for a moment, hoping that somehow Sam got the message but he didn't. Once Dean let go of his shoulders, he'd turn, still holding his aching stomach. Taking hold of his wrist, Dean yanked the jacket off his arm.

It took a while, but Dean finally got the jacket off. He threw it across the room and watched it land on the desk.

When Dean finally brought his attention back to Sam, he looked worse. His eyes were open slightly and they were red. His breathing had picked up speed again. The hands that once clung to his stomach were now squeezing the hell out of the bed sheet. Sam bit into his bottom lip hard. It was a whitish color and Dean was surprised Sam hadn't drew blood. His feet kicked weakly and it seemed as it Sam was fighting something nonexistent.

For a split second, he settled down and Dean thought he was beginning to calm, but then he opened his mouth and yelled. He yelled at the top of his lungs was pain exploded though his body. He yelled loud, a blood curdling yell. A yell that made Dean jump and look around clueless.

Dean covered Sam's mouth.

"Sam, be quiet."

But it didn't help none.

Sam still yelled. If anything, he got louder. His hands now clawed at Dean's hand that covered his mouth. On his fingers, Dean could feel the hot air from Sam's nose blowing on them and Sam's yells vibrating against the palm of his hand. Dean pressed on his mouth a little harder trying to muffle him as much as he could.

"Sam, please shut up. They're gonna call the cops if you keep yelling like this…," Dean tried to bargain, partly serious. It was late at night and Sam's yells would cause suspicion.

"Make him stop, make him stop, make him stop!" Sam yelled over and over again into Dean's hand. He yanked at it, thinking Dean was the one causing him the pain.

Letting go of Sam's mouth, Dean grabbed his shoulders and shook him a little.

"Sam, focus!" he yelled back at him.

Sam's eyes roamed the room for a little. He stopped yelling. His breathing was heavy and he looked on the verge of tears.

"Dean, help me…" Sam calls to him.

"That's what I'm trying to do."

Sam's back arched, like the mattress punched him in the back and he cried out.

"Make him stop! Dean, make him stop!"

Dean was at a loss. How can he fight something that's in Sam's head? He took hold of Sam's shoulders again.

"Sammy, there's no one hurting you-"

"Dean, pleaseeee!" Sam begged, his voice full of hurt from the imaginary pain. There was nothing Dean could do, there was nothing Dean could say that would make Sam's pain go away. So he thought quick on his feet and tried the old fashioned way.

Putting away his pride and his manly-ness for a minute, he took a seat next to Sam on the bed and pulled him closer. Dean made sure his grip was tight, made sure Sam could feel him. Maybe they'll be enough to break the spell he was in. For a minute, Dean petted Sam's hair, trying to soothe him. Dean prayed that all of this would get Sam to sleep and finally get some peace.

Sam stirred in his arms, sort of pushing away.

"Dean? What -?"

Letting go, Dean let Sam lay back down.

"Are you sane?" Dean asked with a smirk.

Sam looked around, trying to remember what had happened. "Yeah… I think so. What happened to me?"

Dean stood and then took a seat again in the chair he had brought over. "That fortune teller, witch chick we went to see… I think she put some kinda spell on you. Guess that's what you get for calling her a fake."

Sam smiled a little.

"I don't remember."

Dean felt his eyebrow arch. "Nothing?"

Sam shook his head. "I remember going to see her, then everything's black, and the next think I know, I'm here."

Dean shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I'm going back and kicking that bitch's ass."

Sam yawned, looking up at Dean with watery eyes.

"Can we save the ass kicking for the morning?"

Nodding, Dean says, "'Course we can."

Dean stands up and puts the chair back.

"Hey," Sam calls, settling into bed. "Sorry anything that happened when I was… out of it."

Dean chuckled. "Don't worry 'bout it, Sammy. It wasn't nothing I couldn't handle."


	4. READ THIS :

**I know, I know, this isn't a chapter... but I do have something for you guys. **

**I found this story. **

**The 'warning' said that it might get a little graphic, but I'm really hooked and it's only at chapter 2. I would reccommend allllll of you read it. And if you like it, don't forget to review (:**

**.net/s/6506932/1/For_Pleasure_For_Pain  
**

**That's the link! (Just highlight it, copy it, and past it in Google or wheverever. It should come up, if not, just message me and I'll send you the link again)**

**Go check it out. **

**Especially if you like hurt! , limp! , kidnapped! Sam.  
And I'm not sure about what else might be in it, but it has the making to be really, really awesome. **

**You should go check it out! **


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